Hogwarts: A Future
by godricshollow
Summary: Story on hold until further notice. I don't think that anyone's read this, and since I've got Oak Leaves going on at the moment, this story is on hold until I acquire some free time!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Wish I owned the wizarding world. Obviously, I don't. If you enjoy my story, you can thank JKR for creating such a fantastic world of imagination and magic for everyone to enjoy. In other words, I don't own Harry Potter, any of his friends, enemies, or anything that is remotely connected to him. Except for my Gryffindor scarf that I knitted myself!

Hogwarts: A Future Prologue 

            It was the summer before third grade and my uncle had invited my family to stay at his house for the whole vacation. He hardly lived in a house, though. It was more of a mansion, and it was situated in Scotland. I think that he invited us because he was lonely. Living in a house as large as his with only books for company must have been pretty dull. At the time though, all I thought of was a free trip overseas, away from school and my boring, middle class house in the US. Plus, meeting a mysterious uncle who I only knew from the (fantastic) birthday and Christmas gifts seemed promising.

            We arrived at Willow Manor, his home, in June and were greeted by my Uncle Alan. He had a quirky sense of humor and a never-ending knowledge of creatures and plants, just like my dad. He seemed to be a sort of ever-lasting Boy Scout who had never grown up. He adored my baby sister, Sylvia; played with my brothers Jake and James without tiring; and charmed my mom to no end. My dad was giddy to be back in the home of his childhood and he seemed to look and act decades younger. Strangely enough, Uncle Alan seemed fondest of me. It could have been because I was the oldest of his nieces and nephews, or maybe because I pestered him with question after question, but for some reason, my uncle invited me into his library on my first night at Willow Manor. He sat me down and proceeded to explain to me all about his past. He had been through a lot. He had attended a boarding school until he was 18, along with my dad. I think that he joined the military after that. Both of my grandparents had died with my uncle and dad were in their early twenties. 

            Now, telling your entire life story to an eight year old can seem like a very strange thing to do. It seemed exceptionally strange to me, being that choice eight year old. Even so, I paid attention diligently. Uncle Alan told me countless embarrassing stories about my dad and even about himself. I learned about their summers growing up at Willow Manor. Our talks became a nightly occurrence, and he eventually taught me the names of all of the plants and animals that he had seen living on his property, which was no small feat for a third grader.

            To this day, I don't understand why my uncle didn't marry. I know that he was in love when he was younger, but I guess that he and the girl lost touch. He was a remarkable man and over the years, became a sort of second father to me. That summer was the first of many visits to Willow Manor for me. I'll always wonder what could have been if things had turned out differently.

            The summer before fifth grade was one of my most memorable visits to Willow Manor. One night, my uncle invited the Hillgroves, old friends of my dad's, to dinner. With them came the terrors of my childhood... their sons. When the doorbell rang that evening, I was sent to answer it. Beside the invited Mr. and Mrs. Hillgrove stood their two bright-eyed, ginger haired sons: Nate and Charlie. Lord, how I despised them. 

            They tugged my brown braids, taunted, teased, pinched, and otherwise terrorized me throughout the night. Since our parents decided that we got on _so_ well, they became my daily playmates for the rest of the summer. They were the only kids I knew that far away from home who were near my age. I was in desperate need of some friends and entertainment, so I did not fight my mother when she invited them over continuously.

            The following winter, Uncle Alan became very ill. He decided to move to London, where medical treatment would be at the ready should things get more serious. Over Christmas, my father flew us to Willow Manor to visit with my uncle and also because Dad insisted on us helping Uncle Alan pack up his things and close up the house. Nate and Charlie came daily without failure to help move furniture and do odd jobs. Winter made Willow Manor drastically different, and also the Hillgrove boys were entirely different from the ones that I remembered fighting with. Nate had matured seemingly overnight and was now at least a foot taller than the twelve-year-old boy that I had seen the previous summer. Charlie was basically the same as he had been, but without an older brother to copy, there was hardly any teasing of me. Being nearly eleven ourselves, we felt very grown up by declaring a truce with them. The three of us became fast friends and spent the blustery winter days trudging around my uncle's property, discovering secret places and hidden treasure. The most we found was an out-of-use railroad line, a pair of old Wellington boots, and the remains of a fort that my dad and uncle had built over thirty years ago. Christmas was strange that year. I didn't see any of my normal friends, and it was most definitely not an "American" Christmas. The Hillgrove family showed us how magical a Scottish Christmas could be, though, and how the English celebrated with Father Christmas. At the beginning of January, we saw my uncle settled in London, bid farewell to the Hillgroves, and headed back home to the States. In March of that year, Uncle Alan passed away. To my brothers and sister, it was not a big deal. They hadn't grown as attached to him as I had.  However, it was the first time I had lost someone close to me. I stayed in my room for three days, until my mom forced me to return to school. The Hillgrove family was notified of the death and my parents asked them to keep an eye on Willow Manor. Nate and Charlie and I had kept in touch through the mail and they were just as upset as I was with the loss of my uncle.  My father took it the hardest, though. We learned not to mention Uncle Alan or Willow Manor in his presence. 

            On a Friday, near the end of the school year, my parents took me out of school for lunch. As any kid knows, when your parents willingly pull you out of school and take you to lunch for no reason, then something has happened. After a bit of questioning, my parents relented and told me that there had been a twist in my uncle's will. While they had told my siblings and me that his possessions had been left to our whole family, they had not told us that things were left to specific people. Then, realizing that I was only eleven, they simplified it for me.

            "Your uncle," my mom said in a calm voice, "has given you a very special gift. You've inherited Willow Manor from him."

            That was the first time in my life that I had actually fallen out of a chair in surprise. Even a kid knows when they have been given a really good present. My uncle had made me the heiress to Willow Manor, and with it, quite a large sum of money. Uncle Alan had made sure that I would not have to pay taxes or any other fees on the manor for at least as long as I would live, if not longer.

            Becoming instantly wealthy can be quite a shock to anyone. You can imagine what thoughts ran through my head. Legally, I wouldn't be getting a cent of that inheritance until I was eighteen. At the time, I was flabbergasted with my parents when they denied my wishes of quitting school and buying my own circus. Go figure.

            The manor, as far as I know, has been deserted and probably not well kept since my last visit there. I've been in touch with the Nate and Charlie on a regular basis, but I have never asked them to go dust the insides or mow the grass or anything of the sort. My parents talked to Mr. and Mrs. Hillgrove constantly to make sure that the house had not burned down or anything. I didn't talk about Willow Manor because it still was a touchy subject with my dad. I didn't want to upset him by reminding him of Uncle Alan.

            Now it's been over seven years. I've graduated high school and battled with my parents over my choice of not going to college. I'm just not interested in college. I was given ownership of Willow Manor a few months ago, on my birthday. I'm legally an adult and I'm just itching to get out into the world. So here I am, sitting on a British Airways plane. It's taxiing down the runway and then heading to Great Britain. In my hands I hold the deed to Willow Manor, my passport, my ID, and my boarding pass. Together, these prove that I, Emmeline Estelle Cornerstone, am now on my own and the owner of a very large and luxurious mansion. How am I going to survive this if I can't even get over the fact that I have a terrible middle name? I'm done for. 

A/N: I've rewritten and reposted what I've got of this fan fiction so far because after going over the original version, I was VERY unimpressed. So, I apologize to all who read the previous version. It might not seem like it yet, but this IS a HP story. Just let it evolve!   
Please comment! I'll take flames if you deem the appropriate.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Wish I owned the wizarding world. Obviously, I don't. If you enjoy my story, you can thank JKR for creating such a fantastic world of imagination and magic for everyone to enjoy. In other words, I don't own Harry Potter, any of his friends, enemies, or anything that is remotely connected to him. By the way, the fact that Charlie and Nate have red hair has no connection to the Weasley family. I have an unnatural obsession for red hair. **drools** 

A/N: I've rewritten and reposted what I've got of this fan fiction so far because after going over the original version, I was VERY unimpressed. So, I apologize to all who read the previous version. It might not seem like it yet, but this IS a HP story. Just let it evolve. 

Hogwarts: A Future 

Chapter 1

            Nate and Charlie Hillgrove were supposed to pick her up from the train station at three. She had not seen either of them in ages. '_I wonder if I'll even be able to recognize them.'_ The last time she had seen them, Nate had been a gangly teen resembling a string bean with extremely pale skin coated with freckles, and red hair that looked like fire in the sun. Charlie had been her height with darker ginger hair and a darker complexion to match. He was a good bit stockier than Nate and not as bold. '_I wonder if they'll recognize _ME.' She wondered. She had changed a good bit since she was eleven, as well. Her previously long brown hair was now in a much shorter style. She had gained a bit of weight, which she blamed on her job in a pastry shop.

            "Where _are_ they?" She muttered as she leaned on a wooden bench. Her heap of luggage on the cement was starting to get wet from the dreary, never-ending drizzle.

            Over the tops of a huddle of black umbrellas she saw a head of read hair bobbing towards her. The red mane passed the offending umbrellas and she saw another redheaded person next to the first. Emmeline had always had the unexplainable habit of wanting to be noticed before noticing someone else, so almost rudely, she looked away and pretended to be extremely interested in her magazine. She had been reading it for the last three hours, so rereading the 'How to be Bootylicious' article again didn't seem very interesting.

            "Miss?" a voice behind her asked as she was politely tapped on the shoulder.

            "Yes?" She responded sweetly and spun around with a dazzling smile that she had been practicing for the last fifteen minutes of the train ride.

            ""Have you the time?" asked a white-haired, wrinkly skinned old man wearing pants of an absolutely disgusting shade of green, paired with a clashing plaid sport jacket.

            "Erm, no. Sorry." She answered, dazed and confused.

            '_What happened to the red heads?_ She wondered trying not to panic as she watched the old man stumble away._ I've got no idea how to get to Willow Manor. The Hillgrove phone number is buried somewhere in the bottom of my suitcase. I'm just not sure which suitcase it is. I know I'm at the designated meeting spot and it's almost 3:30. I've just had an extremely long flight followed by a very long and boring train ride. I'm jet lagged and confused, damp and tired. All I want to do is dry off, find a bed, and sleep for a week. What am I going to do? I don't suppose there are hotels or a bed and breafa – _'

            "Miss?" a deep and unfamiliar voice behind her asked.

            Prepared for the worst, Emmeline spun around to face the voice. 

            "Emmeline?" the two red haired boys that she had spotted earlier asked in unison. Before she could answer she was engulfed in a red-haired bear hug.

* * * * *

            '_Sleeping is quite possibly the best feeling in the world after a long trip. You wake up relaxed and cheerful, ready to start the day. Or, at least, ready to eat breakfast._' Were Emmeline's first thoughts as she woke up the next day in the guest bedroom of the Hillgrove family's house to the aroma of bacon and eggs.  _'The house has not changed at all in the last seven years, right down the pictures on the walls.'_  She forced herself to get out of the warm bed and got dressed for the day. When she entered the kitchen a few minutes later, Mrs. Hillgrove was just setting a platter of food on to the table. Charlie was already munching on his third piece of toast while scooping eggs into his mouth with his other hand.

            "Haven't lost your appetite, I see, Charlie." Emmeline remarked.

            "Haven't lost your dreadful looks, Em, have you?" He shot back, which resulted in very un-manly giggles from a pajama-clad Nate.

            "Charles! You will apologize to Emmeline this instant." Mrs. Hillgrove retorted, smacking her son with a wooden spoon from her apron pocket. "And Emmeline, you have my permission to pummel him once you finish your breakfast, dear."

            Emmeline was right. Absolutely nothing had changed in the Hillgrove household over the years. Glad that it was obviously not going to be awkward between the three of them, she smiled to herself and grabbed some of the quickly disappearing bacon.

* * * * * 

            As Nate drove the car up to Willow Manor, Emmeline drank in the scene before her. The driveway leading to Willow Manor had bits of grass growing in the cracks and there were large weeds growing up on either side of the front steps. The far right window of the second floor was broken. There was rubbish scattered around the front of the house. Even with all of this, Emmeline felt as if she was on another summer vacation. Nate handed Rileigh the key and she unlocked the big oak doors and let the three of them into the entrance hall. Charlie flipped the light switch and the chandelier above them flickered on, casting a golden glow on their surroundings. _'I can't believe that Willow Manor is actually mine.' _The house almost felt empty to the three friends without Emmeline's late uncle there spewing out corny jokes and pulling pranks.

            "Alright, let's spread out and open all of the windows. First thing to be done is to air out the rooms and see if anything is damaged." Emmeline said, already giving orders.

            "Right-o, Captain!" Charlie agreed with a mock-salute.

            "I haven't been in here in forever." Nate muttered, glancing around at the furniture that had been covered with sheets. "Hasn't changed much, though. This shouldn't be too much work, Em. We'll have you done and settled in by the end of the week."

            At that, they split up. Charlie took the ground floor, starting in the kitchen. '_Figures.'_ Thought Emmeline '_But I wonder if he realizes that there isn't any food in there...'_ She and Nate headed down the hallway and climbed the massive marble stairs. As much as both boys hadn't changed personality-wise, they had most assuredly changed in teh looks department. Nate, for lack of a better term, had turned into a hunk. Charlie had shaped up as well, and now both of the boys were more than easy on the eyes. _'I wonder if they've got girlfriends. Wait, what do I care? They're like my brothers! It doesn't matter to me.'_

            "I'll go right, you go left. Okay?" Nate said in a gruff voice, interrupting her thoughts.

            "Right." Emmeline agreed once she realized that they had reached the top of the stairs.

            She started with the first room on the left side of the hall, one of the bathrooms. First, she turned on the tap to see if the water worked and after a spurt of brown liquid, the water ran clear. Leaving the toilet seemed to work all right, considering the fact that the water had only been turned on the day before. She opened the window and peeked into the bathtub, which had spider webs and dust in it. She left, not bothering to check the closet. The next room was one of the old guest rooms. It had been Sylvia's nursery when they had visited. Little clouds of dust floated up as she stepped onto the fluffy carpet and headed towards the first window. It slid open easily. The next window opened halfway, and that was good enough for her. The last one squeaked open as well. '_Not bad at all'_ she thought.

            The next room in the hall was her old bedroom. The furniture was covered with sheets and the mirror was dirty. The closet stood open, showing nothing but more dust and a few empty hangers. She slid open the windows with ease and left.

            There were only two rooms left on her end of the upstairs. One was another guest room, which was completely empty. The last one was the one with the broken window that she had noticed earlier. After scanning the wood floor, she saw a clear, glass ball near the window. Deciding that it was what broke the window, she picked it up and put it on the covered desk in the room and opened the two undamaged windows. The hallway was now considerably lighter with all of the dirty windows open to the sunlight, and it was already feeling more aired out. Nate was just coming out of the last room on his end, wiping dust from his hands.

            "There's just one more room up here, Em. Want to go with me?" he asked.

            "Sure, which one?"

            "Alan's." replied in a subdued tone. He gave her a worried look as he said, "You don't have to if you don't want to."

            Petrified, she stepped closer to Nate and nodded. _'Of course I can do this... I think.'_ Nodding back, Nate grabbed her hand and they went in together.

* * * * *

            "Three days after we first entered Willow Manor and it's clean! I'm a lean, mean, cleaning machine!" Charlie hollered from the kitchen. It was obviously his favorite place in _any_ house. He had been wiping down the appliances for the past hour.

            "Charlie, you may be mean, but you're _not_ lean!: Nate yelled back from the parlor, where he had been attempting to start a fire in the massive fireplace for the past hour.

            "Bugger off, Nate! You can't even light a simple fire." Charlie called back with glee.

            Emmeline sighed and went back to dusting the side table in the entrance hall. All of the furniture had been uncovered. The floors had been mopped and vacuumed. Windows were washed; the yard was taken care of; and even the broken window was repaired. Emmeline had put the mysterious glass ball on the mantle of the fireplace, along with some pictures she had found of her family, uncle, and the Hillgroves. Nate and Charlie had proven to still be the great friends that she remembered from her childhood. Even Mr. and Mrs. Hillgrove had come over for the previous two days  and helped clean and get things into working order.

            "AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGHHHHHH!" shrieked a high-pitched, feminine voice.

            "Emmeline?! Are you alright?" Nate called in a worried tone as he ran towards the entrance hall.

            "It wasn't me, Nate!" she yelled back, already running toward the kitchen. "I think it was Charlie."

            Emmeline, shortly joined by Nate, ran towards the kitchen, which was now emitting the sounds of Charlie whimpering, coupled with loud crashes. They burst through the swinging doors and were struck with the image of Charlie standing on the worn wooden table, holding a pan in one hand and a spatula in the other. Pan lids and cooking utensils were scattered across the floor. In the midst of all of the chaos were three raccoons, oblivious to the projectiles being thrown at them by the hysterical Charlie.  

            "There's ... an... an... ANIMAL!" Charlie frantically muttered while waving the spatula in the air. His red hair was disheveled and there were smudges of dirt on his face, which was pale with fright.

            "Mate, they're only raccoons." Nate offered. The raccoons looked from Charlie to Nate, and then rushed out of the back door in a flurry of fur.

            "Charlie, I didn't know you could scream like that!" Emmeline wheezed as she doubled over with laughter.

            "I... I didn't scream. That was the raccoons squealing. _They_ were frightened of _me_." Charlie lied. He set down the pot and spatula and attempted to smooth down his hair.

            "Oh, and that's why you're on the table then, waving around a pot like a madman." Nate chortled.

            "No. I'm on the table because... it was _dirty_. I had to clean it and then I frightened the raccoons and – "

            "Charlie, we know it was you. Just give it up." Emmeline giggled. "Let's go down to the pub in town for lunch, and the go to the store and buy the food we'll undoubtedly be needing."

            Charlie dismounted the table with as much dignity as possible for a full-grown man who had acted like a five-year-old girl. Grabbing the keys off of the kitchen counter, Nate led the way out of the house and into his old, "classic" Mini. 

A/N: You know, no reviews can be quite discouraging. I guess that I can't blame you though. You just don't realize how exciting this story will be, given a few chapters to develop. Hmm. Well, answer me this: how can wrist watches work at Hogwarts (as written by JKR) when muggle things that run on electricity (or batteries) do not work? Wouldn't that include watches?  It's always baffled me. 


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